As I type this, I’m stationed in the passenger side of my car with the seat cranked back far enough so my laptop screen doesn’t clunk against the glovebox. I’m parked at Riley’s school, leeching someone’s weak wifi signal and positioned near the sports field where he’s at flag football practice. As has been the case for at least three weeks in a row now, the weather is miserable: dark, cold, and dumping buckets of rain.
I’d sit outside in my usual fold-out chair, but I’m not insane. It is officially far too shitty to be camped on the sidelines of these sorts of wholesome outdoor activities, which is too bad since between my two kids they have a total of at least six different practices and/or games per week.
Evenings have turned so chaotic lately — if we’re not rushing off to a practice, I’m bolting for gym class or parked in front of the computer trying to force some breathing room in my writing deadlines. JB has a huge presentation coming up at work so he’s extra slammed. I can’t even remember the last time we sat down for a family meal. We’ve been putting a lot of effort into making the most of our weekends, but heading out for a mini getaway involves a lot of scrambling, too: the packing, the grocery shopping, the beshitted piles of post-trip laundry. Plus, check out what we came home to this Sunday after we’d been out of town:
You guys, that would be a DEAD BIRD the cat brought in the house and helpfully wedged under our couch. Thanks, cat. Feather-and-corpse reconnaissance was a nice addition to the usual chores.
Anyway, I’m wondering if fall feels extra crazy to you too? Or does it feel like a good transition from the aimless days of summer?
Signing off from wettest sports field in the Pacific Northwest,